The request, the whole situation, had made her sad. Despite her wild reputation, Amber had always been a one-man woman. She knew, of course, that there were people who cheated on their partners. But Paul had seemed like a devoted husband and good father, even in the few minutes she’d talked with him. Why would his wife seek out someone else? It didn’t make sense.
But she’d heard the pain and remorse in Wendy’s voice, understood that the woman’s conscience was sharpened by her imminent death. Wendy’s actions weren’t hers to judge. Amber would never have published the information in her book, of course, which seemed to be what Wendy had feared.
Anyway, Amber hadn’t expected to see Wendy or her family again.
What were the odds that she’d end up living next door to Paul, knowing Davey, and truth to tell, being incredibly drawn to both of them?
“Daddy?” The small voice came from the kitchen door and Paul wiped his hands and headed in that direction immediately, with that radar all parents seemed to have.
Amber watched as he knelt to talk to his son, listened, laughed and then swung Davey into his arms. She wasn’t the only female watching the scene with appreciation, either. Was there anything more appealing than an involved daddy and a cute little kid?
Mary came up beside her to finish the carving, and she was watching Paul and Davey, too. “He seems like a good man,” she said.
Amber nodded. “I think so.” It was true. And not only was he good, but he was getting better; he already seemed much calmer than the first time they’d met. “The Healing Heroes program is working, it seems.”
“I’m glad.” Mary smiled, looking satisfied. “The Healing Heroes program means a lot to me. Makes me happy to see an officer getting his life back.”
The intensity in Mary’s voice caught Amber’s attention, and she was glad to look away from Paul and Davey. “I never thought to ask,” she said, “but what made you decide to start the Healing Heroes program?”
Mary smiled, but her face was a little sad. “Police officers have been a help to me several times in the past. I wanted to give back.” She gestured toward Paul. “I don’t suppose he’d be willing to let me watch Davey while he carries these trays for us, would he? He seems very...strong.”
“He does.” Paul’s muscles were on display as he picked up Davey again, and Amber had to force herself to look away. “But I’m sure that, between us, we can carry the trays.”
“Good point, dear. We’re hardly helpless.” So they each took an end of a tray and carried it over to the oven.
Determinedly, Amber turned the conversation away from Paul. “Whatever happened with the puppy Kirk brought by?” she asked.
“He took him right back. I don’t want another dog.” Mary didn’t sound convincing, but Amber was all too familiar with having people interfere in her life. She wasn’t going to do that to Mary. She was really getting to like the woman. Mary seemed to have managed single life well for a long time, and it was obvious there was real depth behind the older woman’s glamorous exterior.
“If you don’t want a puppy, what do you want?” she asked Mary. “What’s your big dream?”
Mary dipped her chin and raised her eyebrows. “Not everyone acknowledges that someone my age could have a dream, so thank you, dear.” She hesitated, then added, “As for my dream, I’m just trying to clean up the past.”
It was hard to imagine what a woman like Mary would need to clean up, but from her work interviewing people for her book, Amber knew that people held all kinds of secrets beneath the surface. “Is that anything to do with the woman who was stalking us the other day?”
Mary heaved a huge sigh. “It’s everything to do with her,” she said, “but unfortunately, I can’t tell you any more than that.”
Amber nodded and busied herself arranging plates of dessert for the buffet line. She wasn’t going to pry. Mary had the right to her secrets, like anybody else.
Except maybe Amber, who was keeping a secret that wasn’t her own from the person to whom it would matter the most.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ON THE SATURDAY after Thanksgiving, Mary held her cell phone away from her ear as Imogene ranted on. It was the third call in a week and a half, and this time, in addition to needing money, Imogene was claiming to be upset that Mary hadn’t cooked a Thanksgiving dinner. “I’m family, after all,” she whined. “I was all by myself, all day.”
Mary sighed. Actually, she had invited Imogene to the community dinner. Not because she’d wanted her around, but because she’d felt sorry for Imogene. The younger woman was a stranger in town, alone, with nowhere to go for the holiday. But the fact that it was held in a church had turned Imogene off.
Mary didn’t point that out, though. She knew from experience that arguing with her stepdaughter didn’t work. In that regard, Imogene hadn’t changed a whole lot from the hormonal, angry teenager she’d been when Mary had married her father.
Besides, Mary was tired. Yesterday had been a huge shopping day, of course—Black Friday happened in Pleasant Shores, just like it did in cities—and she’d been in the store for twelve hours. She’d done two story times for the kids, giving their parents a chance to shop in peace. It had all been fun, but exhausting.
A knock sounded at her door and when Mary looked out, she saw Erica Harrison and her big white goldendoodle, Ziggy. Just seeing the pair lifted Mary’s spirits, and she felt a smile cross her face. “I’m sorry, Imogene, but I have to go.”
“Why?
